


Four Days Between

by ErisDea



Series: The Time-Traveler Arc [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, The Avengers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisDea/pseuds/ErisDea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is the day of the Battle of New York, and the day Thor and Loki leave for Asgard. What exactly happened during the four days in-between? [Part 2 of the Time-Traveler Arc]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the [art](http://hallpen.deviantart.com/art/THE-AVENGERS-306618888) goes to [Hallpen](http://hallpen.deviantart.com/), who gave me permission to use it for the cover image. :)
> 
> Also, [Jean Grey](http://mizzarh.deviantart.com/art/I-m-All-Alone-Here-389822146%0A), who is tucked beside Coulson, was drawn by [Mizzarh](http://mizzarh.deviantart.com/). It was the only drawing I could find that would blend in with Hallpen's work. :P

The first twenty-four hours after what the media is calling The Battle of New York is spent in a SHIELD hospital.

“I don’t even wanna know,” Tony says as he’s getting checked out, because falling unconscious then going for shawarma after spending several seconds in space is apparently a big no-no. Who knew?

“Know what?” Thor asks, faltering when he sees something over Tony’s shoulder. Romanoff is sitting quietly with both hands in her lap when Tony looks over as well, and doesn't let on that he’d already seen her making a ‘cut it out’ motion through the reflection of the glass wall in front of him.

“How SHIELD took over a whole hospital,” Tony replies. “I mean, Jesus, did they recruit the doctors already here or did they slowly but surely weed out everyone who wasn’t already on their payroll?” Thor looks unsure how to answer, but Tony just goes on talking, even when the doctor (the spy-doctor, oh that was good, he was totally going to say that next) asked him to open his mouth and stick out his tongue. “—an’ theriouthly,” he adds just as the doctor pulls the stick out, “are you all spy-doctors? Like spies with a medical degree? Because how does that work? Do you,” he pauses and smiles at his next witty words, “operate stealthily?”

Loki groans, Bruce and Barton facepalm, and Romanoff growls, “Take him off the damn morphine and get me the hell out of here. And not in that order.”

Tony grins, completely and shamelessly proud of his drug-induced accomplishments.

* * * * *

Steve pokes his head in the room and sees that while the curtains have been drawn, there were no other feet peeking from the lower, exposed part. Taking this as a good sign, he walks in and shuts the door. “Tony?” he says.

“Wrong room,” Barton’s irritated voice filters out from the curtains.

“Oh,” Steve says, already backing up. “Sorry.” Then he stops. “Um. The nurses say we can all be discharged once Thor’s patched up,” he adds, fingers grasping the doorknob.

“Okay, thanks.” He paused with his hand on the handle, because that voice was far too feminine to belong to Barton, and takes another peep at the curtains.

Still no feet there.

…oh.

“Right. Sure thing.” Clearing his throat, he opens the door and walks out. He closes the once-opened door after a moment’s hesitation, then heads into the next room. “Tony?” he asks again, though this time, the curtains aren’t shut, revealing the bedridden genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. “Oh, sorry,” Steve says when he sees Dr. Banner at Tony’s bedside. “I didn’t think you’d have company.”

Tony stills Dr. Banner’s attempt to excuse himself by raising a hand. “Whatever you want to say to me, you can say to Bruce.”

Good Lord, was he really that obvious?

“I wasn’t going to ask him to leave,” he admits, glancing at Dr. Banner and giving the man a polite smile as he shut the door. “I was actually planning to speak to him after I spoke to you.”

“What about?” Dr. Banner asks, looking curious.

“Director Fury,” Steve replies. “SHIELD.” He sighs. “You have to understand: it’s not that I held them in high esteem, but they were the only allies I knew after I…woke up,” he euphemizes. “They caught me up as much as I allowed them to, they helped me find an apartment in Brooklyn when I wanted to go back home—I owed them a lot. So when you came in, bringing all your distrust for SHIELD,” he shrugs, “I was indignant for them. I felt that you were being unfair, that you didn’t know them like I did.”

“But Fury did something to break you trust,” Tony guesses, and Steve nods.

“After the attack on the ship, I expressed my plan to Fury about speaking with you and making amends. He wanted to know why, but I didn’t want to tell him everything and I think he picked up on that, because after I left, he radioed Agent Hill and said he wanted the audio feed from your room.”

“Ah,” Tony nods, “yeah, Fury’s a bastard like that. But,” he shrugs, “what do you want me to do about it?”

“Uh, nothing,” Steve replies, a little taken aback. “I just…wanted to apologize.”

“We already did that dance,” Tony points out.

“That’s different,” Steve shakes his head. “That was about how I wanted you to be like Howard. This is about how I treated you in regards to SHIELD.”

This only seems to amuse Tony. “Steve-o, seriously,” he says, “if you apologize for every infraction you think you made, we’ll be here for ages. Like I said, it’s okay. And seriously? Forget about it. We’re good.”

Steve smiles, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “Good,” he nods. One down, another to go. “I also wanted to apologize to you, Doctor Banner.”

The other man looked surprised. “Me?” he says. “Why?”

“Because I followed SHIELD’s lead and treated you with kid gloves,” Steve explains. “I… SHIELD showed me what you could be, and I kept that in mind whenever you were nearby. I focused on your capacity for destruction instead of your humanity, and for that I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me for that, and I promise to never treat you like that again.”

Dr. Banner stares at him, mouth agape until Tony reaches out and pushes his chin up. Shaking his head and clearing his throat, Dr. Banner says, “Steve…” he paused, then gives a small smile. “You can call me Bruce.”

Steve smiles again, relieved that his meeting with Tony and Dr. Banner—Bruce—went well. “Bruce,” he echoes, shaking the hand that the doctor extends to him. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Bruce says. “You don’t know how nice it is to,” he shrugs, “to be treated normally.”

Tony jabs his side. “Hey!” he says in an affronted tone as Bruce jumps, eyes turning green briefly. “What am I, chopped— Hey!” Tony repeats as the green fades, raising a fist into the air. “I did it.”

Bruce sighs. “Tony, that’s not funny.”

“Tony,” Steve frowns, relaxing when he sees that the doctor has a handle on himself, “you really need to stop doing that.”

“Oh please,” Tony waves a hand. “Hulkie-poo loves me. Doesn’t he, big guy?”

Bruce sighs again.

* * * * *

“I assure you, Healer, this is quite unnecessary,” Thor booms in protest, wincing as the needle pushes through his skin once more.

“Hush, Thor,” Loki tells him, head bent to peer at the mortal’s work. “This is fascinating, truly. I always thought that you’d be indestructible here, having been born of Earth, but no! This Midgardian metal can pierce your skin.”

“The metal’s not from Earth,” the healer says, hands working steadily even as she answers him. “This is made of Vibranium, which we got from the alloys found in a meteorite that fell from space.”

“Oh,” Loki says and straightens up, looking disappointed. “I’ll be going now.”

“Brother,” Thor growls, but Loki only waves and walks away. Thor huffs. “Oh, how he vexes me so.”

“Mm,” the healer nods in empathic commiseration. “I have a little brother too. They can be _so_ annoying.”

“Aye.”


	2. Chapter 2

It's around mid-morning on the second day that Fury strides into the room, completely disrupting the progress they've made on the Tesseract's container. "The city is more intact than less," he says in lieu of a greeting, "and since a lot of people managed to upload their little scraps of video on YouTube, everyone is clamoring to find out who the hell you people are. Except you," he preempts as Tony opens his mouth in protest, "and seeing as how everyone knows who Iron Man is, I took the liberty of having Miss Potts arrange a press conference—"

"Oh good," Tony interrupts. "I love press conferences."

"Yes, she said you'd say that," he says, "which is why she asked me to pass along a message." He holds up an actual, honest-to-god index card and clears his throat. "Tony," he reads, "did you know that a person isn't allowed to drink alcohol for at least forty-eight hours after taking painkillers?" Fury pauses to look up and smile, which still looks as freaky as it had the first time Tony saw him do it. "Also," he continues, "I'm sure Agent Romanoff won't mind a few hours of you being irritated at her."

"OW!" Tony yelps as something hisses and pricks at his skin, and surprise, surprise, Natashalie is there holding another syringe of— "—king son of a bitch. Oh," he adds, blinking as the dull pain that had been building in the back of his forehead recedes completely. And then everything clicks together. "Oh no."

"P.S.," Fury adds, "I'll be twelve-percent there in spirit. Pepper."

Tony paused to stare at the index card, feeling irritation sweep through him. "I want to read it."

Fury smirks and tucks the card back into his pocket. "Y'got two hours to get ready. A car will be waiting for you out front. Gentlemen," he nods as an afterthought, and Bruce, Selvig, Loki and Thor all reply in various manners.

"Seriously, I want to read it," Tony repeats as the bastard walks out of the room, Red toddling off after him. "Nick? Nick!"

* * * * *

Steve watches worriedly as Tony's voice rises, his hand gestures getting larger and faster the more he talked. His concern must've been visible because Bruce speaks up. "Don't worry," he says. "From what I've seen, Tony and Pepper's relationship is…" He shrugs, unable to find a word to properly describe it. "They're happy."

"It doesn't look happy," Steve muses, eyeing Tony's flushed face.

Bruce grins. "You should take a closer look at him," he suggests, patting Steve's shoulder before leaning back and returning to his paper.

So Steve does take a closer look, and it takes several more minutes before he gets what Bruce means. Tony's face and body language may suggest otherwise, but his lips are quirking up and his eyes are lit up, expressing his enjoyment. It's that observation that leads him to realize that in the three days he'd just spent with him, Tony Stark had never been more alive and passionate than he was right now.

"He and Miss Potts are dating, right?" he asks Bruce.

"Since last year, I believe," Bruce confirms.

"That long?" Steve asks, somewhat surprised. "In my day, couples were usually married by the time they hit the six-month mark."

Bruce blinks. "Really?" he asks. "I would've thought they lasted longer." Then he shakes his head. "Ah, no wait. I think that's because you lived during the roughest times in American history. World War I, the Great Depression, World War II—those were pretty much the—" Bruce stops talking abruptly. "Oh, Steve, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, no, that's okay," Steve nods, giving the doctor a smile that he doesn't really feel like giving. "It was a long time ago."

Bruce gives him a knowing look. "But it wasn't that long ago for you," he says softly.

"What wasn't that long ago for you?" Tony asks, seating himself with a graceful drop and wincing when the action jarred him. "Okay, ow, that hurt." He pouts. "I want my IV back."

Bruce responds to this by looking around and, apparently deeming it safe to do, pulling out a small bottle of pills.

Tony beams. "Oh shit. You are my new favorite person. Gimme!" he says, making ridiculous hand motions at the bottle.

"Is it okay to give him that?" Steve asks as Bruce breaks one of the pills in half and hands it over.

"It's just an aspirin," Bruce says in a way that doesn't quite convince Steve. Tony's sigh of relief doesn't help convince him either.

"Oh _yeah_ , that's the stuff," Tony groans as he relaxes into his seat. This only supports Steve's belief that Bruce had just given Tony something he shouldn't have taken. "Christ, Bruce, what is that? Is that what you take to keep from Hulking out? 'Cause holy shit that's effective."

"It'll start wearing off in half an hour," Bruce announces. "Just in time for you to start the conference with a clear head. I'll give you more at the end, if you behave," he adds with a stern look.

Tony stares at him. "That is so sexy, you don't even know," he says, making Bruce flush with embarrassment.

"Tony," Steve says firmly. "Stop making Bruce uncomfortable."

Their drug-addled friend grins lasciviously. "That," he says, "is sexy too, you don't even know either."

Steve falters, feeling his own cheeks flush with discomfiture at the stare Tony's giving him, and he looks over at Bruce. "Side-effect?" he asks.

"I guess," Bruce shrugs. "I never had that problem with it, but some people react to medication differently."

"Well," Steve says as Tony stands up and almost topples over, his hands barely catching the chair's high backrest to steady himself, "so long as it wears off in time for his press conference."

* * * * *

"I may have underestimated the speed of his metabolism," Bruce admits to the room at-large as they watch the train wreck of a press conference Tony is hosting. The billionaire was reenacting his part of the battle enthusiastically, and was now running across the table with his hands jutting from his sides as he mimed the way he (as Iron Man) flew.

He looks completely and utterly ridiculous.

"This," Agent Barton says, "is the best press conference he's ever held."

"Hear, hear," Agent Romanoff adds, flicking a piece of popcorn into her mouth. Steve and Loki are too busy laughing to contribute actual words, but Thor is entirely absorbed with the tale, somehow pulling off the wide-eyed stare of a fascinated child despite the hammer at his side and the bottles of beer at his feet.

Which is when Director Fury chooses to enter the room, Agent Coulson wheeling in from behind him. "Who the fuck," he growls, eye narrowing dangerously, "gave Stark alcohol?"

He casts his eye to Barton, who holds his hands up. "Wasn't me, I swear."

Bruce clears his throat before any other people could be singled out. "That would be me," he says, smiling when he sees Fury and Barton's faces twist in surprise. Steve already knew, and Loki, Thor, Coulson and Romanoff…well, they probably knew somehow too. "And it wasn't alcohol. I gave him a neurological relaxant to dull his pain receptors. I thought it would've been metabolized by the time the conference started."

Fury points at him. "Are you saying Tony Stark acting that way on national television because you _drugged_ him?"

"Yes."

He's stared at for about ten seconds before Fury's lips quirk into a grin. "Someone wants to speak to you," he says, handing Bruce a mobile phone.

Blinking at the phone, he puts it to his ear and says, "Hello?"

This is how Bruce is introduced to one furious Pepper Potts.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing he says to Pepper when he sees her is, "The press conference thing? Totally not my fault."

Pepper tears up, sniffles, and says, "I know," and then follows up with a long kiss that makes Tony's toes curl in his shoes, his socks providing an added scratching friction that jolts through his nerves and right to his cock.

If they weren't in a room with six other people in it, they'd totally be having sex right now.

"You called me," she says once they'd caught their breath, "and I didn't see it—"

"It's okay," he says.

"—that was the last phone call you ever ma— Okay?" she echoes, cutting herself off. "No, Tony that was  _not_  okay—"

"—well, it wasn't the last phone call I ever made, so yeah, it's okay—"

"—was a dick move. I'm a jerk. How can you say that?"

"—can just move on. Oh, Pep, it wasn't a dick move. I mean, you don't even have a dick, how can you move like one, you're being ridiculous—"

"—yes, it was—" She cuts herself off again with an affronted noise. "I am  _not_  being ridiculous. I think that I had every right to worry considering—"

"— _are_  being ridiculous and I didn't say that you shouldn't have worried—of course you have every right to worry—I just think you're blowing this out of proportion—"

"—died. You flew a  _missile_  into  _space_ , Tony, I mean,  _Jesus_ , stop acting so cavalier about it!" The sentence ends in a yell, shutting him up, and he finally sees that this isn't about Pepper feeling guilty about a missed phone call.

"Okay," he says in a lower voice, noting that everyone (who had been doing its best to keep working on the Tesseract container) had quieted at Pepper's exclamation. "I'm sorry."

Pepper deflates, her shoulders hunching in a rare moment of defeat. "Tony," she murmurs, "I thought I lost you. And I couldn't  _breathe_."

That makes him tear up, his throat clogging with emotion at her heartfelt admission. "You almost did," he tells her quietly. "For a moment there, I was dead."

That makes  _her_  sob and throw herself at him, her skinny arms wrapping tight around his torso like slim bands of iron. Tony holds her just as tightly and thinks about how close he'd been to dying two days ago, and how he'd planned that moment the second he had his hands on that damned nuke.

* * * * *

"So," Steve says quietly as they all blatantly eavesdrop on the couple hugging in one corner of the room. "They're kinda intense."

"Quite," Loki agrees. "Theirs is a powerful love—I can see it in their auras."

That raises Steve's eyebrows. "Auras?" he echoes, along with Agents Barton and Romanoff.

"Yes, auras," Loki hums in confirmation. "Tendrils of the soul that reach out to connect to other souls. It is how we perceive the character of the people we meet, how we judge their worth and determine instant compatibility," he explains quietly. "Their auras are so complexly intertwined, it's not surprising Lady Stark felt it when Lord Stark left this realm."

"They're not married," Romanoff says. Loki only hums contemplatively in response.

"We shouldn't be spying on them," Bruce speaks up.

"You're only saying that because you're scared of Pepper," Barton points out.

"She is a  _terrifying_  woman," Bruce agrees, standing. "I'm gonna get some coffee. Does anyone want anything?"

Everyone wants a cup, and Barton asks for chips. Seeing the way Bruce's eyebrows rise at the sudden clamor, Steve gets up as well. "I'll go with you," he volunteers. "I need to stretch my legs and you'll need the extra hands."

"Thanks," Bruce says, and they head out. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"Am I really that obvious?" Steve complains good-naturedly.

"A little," comes the reply. "You get this determined look on your face before zeroing in on your target."

Steve flushes and gives an embarrassed laugh. "I'll work on that."

"No, don't," Bruce tells him, laughing as well. "Let us have a little warning so we can steel ourselves. Anyway," he says, "you wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," Steve nods. "I was wondering if I could ask you about the work you were doing before your…accident." When Bruce's lips pressed together, Steve adds, "I know it's personal—that's why I was so hesitant to ask—and you can tell me if you want me to never talk to you about it again—"

"No, it's okay," Bruce cuts him off, smiling tightly. "We all have our sore spots."

"Oh, Bruce," Steve says, realizing his faux pas, "I don't mean this as some form of revenge for yesterday. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

The smile he gets is a little more genuine this time. "I know you didn't mean it like that, Steve," Bruce tells him. "I was just pointing out a fact. And I don't mind you asking questions. It just…" He shrugs. "I regret doing it, in hindsight."

Steve returns the sad smile. "Me too, in a way," he admits. "I didn't before. I enjoyed it, even. I used to be this scrawny kid who could never be taken seriously, never be trusted to do anything well, and Project Rebirth fixed that for me. But since I found out that I'd spent nearly seventy years in the ice," he sighs, "I regretted being what I now am for the first time."

"It's ironic, isn't it?" Bruce muses as they reach the hospital's cafeteria. "The two of us are the only surviving products of the Super Serum, and we both regretting ever coming near the damn thing."

Steve chuckles darkly. "Well," he says as he reaches for a coffee cup, "at least we're not alone in that regard."

"Mm, there  _is_  that."

* * * * *

Three sets of footsteps stop at his doorway, and he doesn't have to turn around to know that two of those steps belonged to Phil and Deputy Director Hill. "Barton."

"Sir?" he asks, turning around at the summons. He sees that Natasha is there too, and no, he's not surprised to see her there. Nat doesn't have footsteps to hear—that was trained out of her a long time ago. Beside her stands someone who, if not for the hazel eyes and angular bone structure, could've passed for his partner's sister.

"This is Doctor Grey from Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," Coulson says, gesturing to the other redhead before looking straight at him. "She's a telepath."

_Motherfucker_ , Clint thinks, inhaling deeply and turning back to his bed to resume the act of packing, even though everything he owns is already inside. "I signed a contract that specifically stated that you couldn't order me to undergo mental intrusion."

"We're not going to force you to," Hill says matter-of-factly. "Just like we're not going to order everyone else Thanos took to speak with her. But she's agreed to make time if you want her to check for any lingering mental influences—"

"Loki already did that for me," he lies, pausing to give emphasis to his words. "I'm clean."

"Oh," Hill says, a little surprised. "Good. Carry on then."

Three sets of footsteps leave his doorway, Coulson responding to Hill's question about where Selvig's room was located, and Clint leans his palms on the mattress and huffs a laugh. "And here I thought I had a choice."

"You do," Dr. Grey's voice washes over him, simple and assuring, and the fact that his opinion about talking to her doesn't suddenly change convinces him that she's not playing mind games with him. For now. "I wanted to leave you this—" a scrap of paper lands beside him in an unnaturally slow motion, "in case you change your mind."

He gives it a brief glance, because that's all it takes to commit it to memory. "I won't."

She huffs a quiet laugh. "Yes," she says, "I can tell you won't. But it doesn't hurt to have contacts in odd places, just in case."

Clint cracks a smile at that. "I'll give you that," he agrees, and sighs before finally turning around. "Listen, you sound nice and all, but—" He paused in surprise, then scowls darkly. "Son of a bitch."

He was alone in the room.

* * * * *

"Loki."

"Agent Barton," he greets, taking his eyes off the schematics to look at his visitor.

"Can I talk to you in private?" the agent asks. Loki gives him a curious look and agrees. "I need you to check my brain," the mortal says when they've secluded themselves in a nearby room.

He blinks at the odd request. "Pardon?"

"For other influences," Barton extrapolates. "I wanna know I'm alone in here, that I won't suddenly start killing the people I work with."

"I see," Loki says. "Now?"

"Yes."

"Very well," he nods, gesturing to the table some feet away. "Have a seat. I shall require eye-contact to enter your mindscape."

"That's very Harry Potter of you," Lord Stark's voice says as the man himself wanders in, a coffee cup in his hand. "Or is it very Snape of you?"

Barton bristles at the intrusion. "Get out, Stark."

Stark gives Barton a pointed look. "Natashalie's off with Agent and Fury's She-Minion, Steve is off bonding with Bruce and Thor is wowing my girlfriend with descriptions of his hometown. Who else is going to watch your backs while you're giving Loki the mental tour?"

Faced with this logic, Barton ceases his hostility and adopts a contrite look. "Oh," he says. "Okay."

"What got your panties in a bunch anyway?" Stark asks, an eyebrow rising.

The archer scowls. "Fury brought in a telepath to check for 'external mental influences.' Coulson says we have the  _option_  to see her, which basically means they expect us to see her soon. I told them Loki already checked me out. Thus," he gestures abstractly, "my presence in this room."

"Cool, cool," Stark says. "Well, go on, then."

Loki sighs and makes another gesture to the chair. "Do seat yourself comfortably, Agent Barton. This may take a while."

* * * * *

"It worked," Dr. Grey says, opening her eyes. "He's with Mister Stark and Loki right now." She slants a curious look at Natasha. "How did you know he'd go for it if I did that?"

She smiles and says, "Because I would've." At Grey's still-curious expression, she elaborates. "Clint is basically me, minus the lady parts and the red hair."

Grey laughs. "I see," she chuckles. "Well, he seems to be in good hands. Loki is…" She struggles for her next words. "Quite powerful," she decides to say.

"We know," Natasha nods. "Thank you for help, Doctor Grey."

"You're very welcome, Agent Romanoff. And you know," she adds, "if you or SHIELD require assistance in the future, just give us a call." She smiles. "Agent Barton has my number."


	4. Chapter 4

"Truly?" Thor asks, looking flattered.

"Yep," Tony nods, grinning.

"This will not end well," Pepper predicts, but she's smiling at Thor's pleased expression.

"Indeed, Lady Stark," Thor says, because they haven't been able to stop him from calling Pepper that (and to be honest, it's _really_ growing on Tony too), "this shall end _magnificently!"_

Tony beams. "And we're almost done with the container, too, which means that Strongman Games and House of Mirrors need a going-away party before they board the Asgard Express. Pep, call the crew and have them set up the penthouse for a back-to-back party!"

"The penthouse is still a mess," Pepper says, her expression turning irritated despite the polite smile that stays on her face.

"Oh right." Tony frowns at this. "Huh. Well, okay then. Since we can't exactly party in a hotel, I guess we can open up the mansion. The ballroom should be enough space for the whole thing."

"Oh, Tony. Really?" Pepper asks, concern replacing annoyance even as Thor bounds away excitedly, saying something about finding Loki and spreading the 'wondrous' news.

Tony shrugs, plastering a nonchalant smile on his face. "Yeah, sure, why not? It'll be fun."

* * * * *

When the door bursts open, Agents Barton and Romanoff shoot to their feet with weapons in their hands, and they only relax seven seconds into Thor's ramblings.

Loki is the unfortunate soul to first understand what was happening. "Oh no," he bemoans as his brother drags him to his feet, babbling excitedly.

"What's going on?" Barton asks, his face relaxing into a smile at Thor's antics.

Sounding pained, Loki says, "Tomorrow is Thursday," as if that explained everything.

And actually?

It did.

* * * * *

"This is where Lord Stark resides?" Thor half-asks, sounding a little impressed.

"Well, no," Pepper admits as she leads him and Loki through the front door, passing the numerous employees she'd hired to clean the mansion as fast as humanly possible. "This _was_ where he lived when he was younger. He closed it up after his parents died."

"Oh," Thor says, more somber this time. "It is a painful place then?"

"I'm not sure, really," Pepper admits. "Aside from their professional accomplishments, Tony never talks about his parents. No personal stories, no childhood anecdotes, just…" she shrugs, "nothing. He hasn't set foot in this place in twenty years, choosing to stay at The Palace whenever he was here in New York. Personally, I think he built the tower so that he wouldn't ever need to set foot in this place again."

"Then why would Lord Stark ever even _think_ of opening this home to us when he never wished to return to it?" Loki asks, something dark lurking behind his eyes.

Pepper bites her lip. "Honestly? I don't know."

* * * * *

"Ho- _ly_ shit." Barton whistles when he's past the threshold. " _Nice_ digs, Stark."

Tony only shrugs. "Living rooms are on this side, ballroom's through there, and the bedrooms are all upstairs, just pick one and it's yours," he tells them. "I'll be in the basement if you need me."

At that declaration, everyone stops in their tracks and stares at him.

"Are you not joining the celebrations, Lord Stark?" Thor asks, frowning.

"I will, I will," he promises. "I'm just gonna see to something real quick. You won't even notice I'm gone."

"Hm, very well," Thor says. "Come, my friends. Let us claim our chambers and store our belongings."

"Tony?" Pepper asks quietly as the others head up the stairs. "What's in the basement?"

"You'll see," he replies, offering a hand out. Pleased, Pepper smiles and takes his hand, tucking her tablet under her arm.

He leads her to a small storage space under the stairs, pulling her inside and sealing the door behind them. "Tony, what—? Oh my god," she says when the lights turn on automatically, revealing an elevator. She hits him lightly, eyes wide and lips stretched from ear to ear with glee. "You have a _hidden_ _elevator_ in your mansion."

Tony revels in her excitement. "Yep," he nods, pressing the button to open the doors. "This place is full of secret passageways. I used to spend my free time exploring this big thing when I was a kid. Well, before my father sent me off to boarding school."

"Maybe we can explore it together," Pepper says carefully, but Tony's already nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd like that," he tells her. "Never got to finish that map I was making."

The doors open once more, revealing a well-lit room full of…well, junk. "Wow," she says, stepping inside and looking around. "This…looks an awful lot like your workshop."

"This was my father's space," Tony reveals, walking in after her and heading to a long bench full of metal and wires. "I used to come in here and," he grunts as he lifts a piece of machinery and sets it on the floor, "watch him work." He huffs and straightens up, smiling at her again. "It's how I learned how to make stuff."

Pepper smiles back, looking interested and utterly pleased at the story. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He turns back to the bench and slides open a panel, revealing a closed screen. Below it is a power button, and he flicks that open, activating the screen. "Jarvis, are you there?"

His earpiece beeps. "Sir."

"I'm inserting the drive now," he says, pulling a slim flash disk from his pocket and attaching the sim-end to a port converter before slipping it into the port on the screen's side. "Try accessing the computer."

"Accessing now." The screen lights up with a progress bar as Pepper walks over to stand beside him. "Access complete."

"How much do you know about what happened during the whole invasion thing?" Tony asks.

"Not a lot," she replies.

He nods. "Jarvis, load the footage from the Helicarrier. And bring up Anna Thorsdóttir's file."

* * * * *

"Miss Potts?"

Pepper startles and looks over to see Barton behind her. "Oh, hello Agent Barton," she greets.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he tells her. "I just came over to tell you Agent Romanoff and I are being sent on an assignment. We're leaving after Thor and Loki do."

"I see," she nods back. "I'll alert the staff about it. Is there anything else?"

He seems a little taken aback at her cool civility, but a resigned look soon flashes across his face. "Stark told you about me then."

She blinks and says, "I don't know what you mean." Barton huffs and moves to go back inside. "If I did," she calls out, "I'd tell you that you did what you could with what you had." That makes him pause and turn to look at her, and she smiles kindly at him. "But like I said, I don't know what you mean."

Barton looks down for a moment, then heads back to her side, leaning his elbows on the railing. "Hypothetically," he says, glancing at her, only to stop when she holds a hand out and flicks open one of the charms on her bracelet.

"Miniature white noise generator," she explains. "Cancels out listening devices so long as it's on. Plus, no one outside two feet can hear us."

He whistles and gives an impressed glance at the bracelet. "Stark tech?"

"I'll tell you what the other charms do later," she grins.

Barton grins back and laughs. "You're not what I expected," he admits. "Nat and Bruce said you're even more of a ball-buster than she is."

Pepper feels viciously pleased at this. "Well to be fair," she says, "Agent Romanoff spied on us for weeks and Bruce medicated Tony, which I expressly forbade, before letting him loose on national television. Those are big no-no's for me."

"Fair points," Barton agrees. "But you know Nat was just doing what she was told, right? It wasn't anything personal—"

"Yes, it was," Pepper interrupts him, her tone still kind, but firmer now, belief lacing her voice. "Maybe you both see it that way, but that's because it's your _job_. That? That was our _lives_ ," she emphasizes. "For Tony—for me—it was very personal."

He lowers his eyes and nods. "You're right," he says. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, I'm sorry," she sighs. "She's your partner. You were just trying to help her out."

Barton paused. "You're very perceptive," he tells her, smiling.

She returns the smile. "It's my job to be perceptive. Or well, it used to be," she amends. "I'm sorry, you were saying something? Hypothetically?"

"Actually," he says, "you just answered my question." He pushes off the railing and offers a hand to her. "It was great meeting you, Miss Potts."

"You too, Agent Barton," she tells him, shaking his hand. "And please, call me Pepper."

"Then you call me Clint," he replies.

"Clint it is," she nods. "I'll see you when you…well, when I see you," she finishes with a wry smile and a small shrug.

He smiles back. "Likewise, Pepper."

Barton walks back into the ballroom, Pepper watching him drop into the cushion beside Romanoff and nod at something she says. Looking around and feeling sure that no one was watching her, she finds Tony past the glass doors and asks, "Did you get all that?"

" _Oh, yeah_ ," Tony replies as he moves toward her, covering his mouth with a glass and taking a sip after he speaks. " _Masterfully done, Miss Potts_."

"Thank you, Mister Stark," she says as she turns around to look up at the stars and hide the movement of her mouth. "Honestly though, I thought he'd see through me for sure."

" _Nah_ ," he tells her the door behind her opens. "You did really well," he adds, his voice coming through both her earring and from behind her. "In fact, if I didn't know any better," his hand engulfs her wrist and clicks the microphone charm shut, "I'd say you were a trained spy."

She grins up at him as he spins her around. " _Agent Potts_ doesn't really have a good ring to it, huh?"

"That's okay," he says, brushing her hair back and over her ear. "I prefer to call you _Miss_ Potts, anyway."

"Me too," she grins. "Will that be all, Mister Stark?"

"Just one last thing," he murmurs, then slants his lips over hers, humming when she reciprocates. "Okay," he adds when they've parted. " _That_ will be all, Miss Potts."

Pepper rolls her eyes, smiling.


	5. Chapter 5

Doctor Banner sitting in the near darkness, boiling water on the stove, isn't what Clint expects to find when he creeps into the kitchen to filch some of Stark's good coffee. He hesitates to come in, but realizes quickly that if he doesn't like being tiptoed around, Banner probably hates it even more, so he shrugs, relaxes his shoulders and saunters in, shooting the other man a jaunty salute with a "Sup, doc?" on his lips.

"Midnight snack," Banner says, moving his hands up so that Clint can see the Cheetos pack he's clandestinely munching on. There's a small smile on his face, understated to the unkeen observer, but Clint is trained to see through things deeper. Banner isn't as tense as he could be, isn't as worried, so Clint lets his body language loosen further as he heads to the coffee maker. "What brings you to this dark corner of the house so late?"

Clint grins and hopes the dark really is hiding the circles under his eyes. "We're heading out in an hour to secure the go-site. I was just gonna refill my—" he falters when he finds the carafe clean, dry and bereft of coffee, "—jug." Pursing his lips, he starts rummaging through the cabinets surrounding the coffee maker.

A minute later, Banner takes the kettle off just as it begins to whistle, and Clint finally finds the blue bag of beans after he realizes that the space of wall tucked between the top cabinet and the counter _slides open_. Once the coffeemaker is fulfilling its existential purpose, he half-complains, "How did this happen?" But he's also totally amused as he asks this, playing with the sliding panels and prying through the contents of each compartment. "This manor is _old_. The walls should not be like this. How? Why? And really, the kitchen?"

Banner just shrugs. "Not my place," he reminds Clint. "You'll have to ask Tony about it some time."

Clint grimaces, unable to stop himself from remembering the warm welcome Stark had initially given him and comparing it to the cool civility he's confronted with whenever Stark looked his way now. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen," he says.

The doc's smile dims as he looks down with a wince, clearly having noticed the same thing Clint had. "Clint," he says, "I know it feels like it, but…it's not your fault. Trust me," he adds when Clint opens his mouth to protest. "I know what you're going through."

His mouth snaps shut as what he knows about Banner's accident and subsequent activities flashes through his mind.

"I heard you and Agent Romanoff are being shipped off tomorrow? Well, _later_ ," he amends.

"Yeah."

"You should take time off after that," Banner says. "You probably think that time off isn't what you need right now, but it is. It's going to take a while for you to get over what you've done, and the most important thing you can do for yourself is give yourself space to reflect. To straighten yourself out and separate what you think you did willingly from what you really wanted to do in that situation. To figure out what was your call and what wasn't."

Clint inhales sharply, the advice pricking a little too heavily at his chest. "Solid advice, doc," he says, because it _is_. "I'll think about it," he adds, even though Clint has _no_ intentions of actually _doing_ it.

"Good," Banner nods.

Clint is saved from further conversation when Natasha enters the room. "Good morning, Doctor Banner."

"Agent Romanoff," he replies.

"Clint," Natasha says, "car's here."

The coffeemaker goes off. "Perfect timing," he says to no one in particular, waiting two seconds for the drip to stop before pulling the carafe out and filling his jug.

"Does Stark know that you're filching his coffee?"

"Is it filching if he already knows about it?"

"So that's a no?"

He smiles, tops off his coffee jug and reattaches the lid. "Later, doc," he says, shooting Banner, who raises his cup in reply, another salute as he follows Natasha out the door.

* * * * *

Tony isn't the kind of person who takes 'no' for an answer. Well, except for sex. He respects the word in those kinds of situations. In _these_ kinds of situations, however…

"I don't get it," he says aloud.

Pepper inhales sharply, and Tony belatedly realizes that she'd been falling asleep. "Hm? Get what?" she asks, voice laced with lethargy.

"S'nothing," he tells her quietly, pulling her to him when she moves closer. "Sorry. Go back to sleep."

"No, tell me," she murmurs, nuzzling her nose across his shirt.

He shrugs lightly. "S'Bruce," he says. "He wants to go back to Kolkata. I told him he's welcome to stay here, that he could move to the tower once the repairs finish. I even offered to put him up on a Hulk-proof level—he said no."

Pepper laughs, a low and throaty sound that goes straight to his dick, and he wonders if she was up for round two. And if she wasn't, could she be persuaded anyway?

"And you can't take no for an answer."

He smiles. "You know me best, Pep."

She chuckles again. "Give him time," she tells him. "Doctor Banner has—"

"Bruce," he corrects her. "Call him Bruce. He likes that better. I can tell."

"—spent a long time getting by on his own," she continues, as if he hadn't said anything at all. Tony's smile deepens in affection. "You have to keep in mind that he's not used to this level of generosity, not with what's happened since he…"

He sees her struggle for a polite euphemism and offers one. "Turned himself into a huge green rage monster?"

Pepper sighs. "Please don't tell me you said that to him."

"'Kay," he replies, and she groans a laugh.

"Tony."

"He liked it!" he defends. "Really, I think that's why Hulk loves me back." He realizes his faux pas when Pepper suddenly stiffens and quiets down. "I'm fine," he reminds her. "He caught me, I didn't turn into roadside pancake, everything's hunky-dory. Pep. Pep. Stop with the brooding. That's Bruce's schtick. Or Capsicle's. Must be something in the serum." He blinks. "I should totally take a look at that—"

"Not tonight," Pepper pushes him back down before he can dislodge her to get up. "Tonight, you're mine."

He grins and lies back down. "As the Lady Stark commands."

"That's getting old."

"It's not. It's really not."

* * * * *

Phil blinks and reads the memo again, then frowns as the words sinks in. He rolls his wheelchair back, spends the next seventeen minutes rolling towards the director's office and, once there, waits patiently—a contrast to the turmoil building inside him—for Agent Jane to announce his presence to the director.

"You can go in now, Agent Coulson," Jane tells him, and Phil thanks the other man before entering the room. He finds the director and Maria Hill standing by the large screens monitoring the Helicarrier, and without even looking his way, Fury gestures to a cluster of screens showing several agents Phil has worked with in the past. "What do you think?"

"I think I should stay on with the Avengers, sir," Phil replies, only giving the screen a cursory glance as he closes the door and heads further in.

Fury raises his eyebrow. "Oh, I'm not taking you off the Avengers," he says blandly. "But I am giving you this assignment."

Phil doesn't frown, though he certainly wants to. "Sir?"

"We've proven that they _can_ work together during a crisis," the director tells him, "but we haven't proven that they can _be_ together outside of it. You saw what happened on the 'carrier. They're a ticking time-bomb, Coulson."

"Which," Phil interrupts, "is precisely why I requested the Bus. Some time spent together, learning how to work with each other—"

"You can have the Bus," Fury interrupts, "but not for them," he points to the screen where a shaky, clearly civilian-taken video of Natasha and an unmasked Captain America are being shown. "You want the Bus, you take the assignment."

Phil doesn't purse his lips either. "Sir?"

Fury swipes his hand over the central display, calling up seven pages of blacked-out reports. Another hand-swipe clears out the redaction, allowing Phil to see the details. "Preliminary reports from the cleanup crew in Manhattan," the director summarizes.

"Majority of the property damage incurred during the battle is contained within a two-block radius," AD Hill speaks up. "Most of the populace in that area were able to get out safely, with about a thousand people taking cover underground. About two hundred were rounded up by the aliens, but our ground team was able to save most of them with minimal injuries. So far, cleanup has found thirty-eight bodies, all crushed in their own homes during the initial attack. They also found several items," Hill pulls up several images of what Phil presumes are alien weapons, "scattered all over the city."

"Surveillance division went over the footages they could scrape together following the battle," Fury intones, taking back control of the meeting. "They counted forty-seven alien objects that fell out of the sky with Stark, of which only _seventeen_ have been found." Fury tilts his head forward, as if looking at him over invisible glasses. "Seventeen. Out of forty-seven."

Phil finally gets it. "You want us to find the other thirty alien tech." And that wasn't a job for the Avengers. Especially since half of them will think that SHIELD would use them to continue Phase 2 now that Thor and Loki were taking the Tesseract back to Asgard.

Fury surprises him, however. "No, I have other people for that," he says, turning to pick up a file off his desk. "This," he holds the folder out to Phil, "is what I want you to do."

* * * * *

Thor is on the balcony when Loki finally finds him, his eyes trained on the small parade of SHIELD agents clustered around Barton and Romanoff as they walked away from Lord Stark's home. "Brother?" he calls out quietly as he approaches. "I thought you retired to your chambers."

"Aye, I did," comes the reply as the mortals disappear into their chariots and speed away from sight, "but the black sleep eluded me."

Loki comes to a stop beside him and sighs. "You dreamt again," he states. "Of _her_."

Thor nods. "We saved her," he confides after a moment passes. "I caught the arrow before it could pierce her heart and you pulled the monster from her body. And when we three returned to Asgard, our parents welcomed her with open arms. We were happy."

"Oh, Thor," he mutters sympathetically. "You heard what Thanos said. Lady Anna used Yggdrasil to design Thanos's death, and she chose to die to do it. There was nothing we could do."

"But what if there was?" his brother insists, and the guilt and regret that he feels flares from his aura, striking Loki as if it were his own emotions. "She was _right there!_ Within my reach! I could've changed the outcome," he bemoans, covering his face with both hands so that Loki couldn't see his shame. "I could've saved her. My daughter. My Anna."

"She was not your daughter," Loki says softly, but that only makes Thor's temper flare once more.

"Enough!" Thor snaps, a clap of thunder almost covering his voice. "Did you not see it when you first laid eyes on her?" he asks darkly. "Because I did. The moment I saw her face to face, I saw _my_ sigil and our father's crest etched on her soul. I watched it shine brighter than any sun I'd ever seen as life seeped out of her body. She is of _my_ _house_ , Loki. I know it. I _saw_."

Loki looks away, because he _had_ seen the same thing when he saw the girl through his own, freed eyes.

Thor must see that truth in his actions, because he bows his head and leans heavily on the stone railing. "She was my daughter, my heir!" he murmurs. "She was mine to protect and I _failed_. And now she's dead." He looks back where the chariot had been and adds, "And it's all _his_ doing."

Thunder rumbles above them, lightning flashing in accordance to Thor's anger, and not for the first time, Loki feels how overwhelming Thor's presence can be.

"You know that's not true," he tells Thor firmly despite his brother's rocky temper. "You heard her, Thor. Lady Anna used Agent Barton to do her bidding, to fulfill Thanos's death. You cannot channel your anger on the mortal for something he had no control over. It isn't _just_."

Thor huffs angrily. "No, it _isn't_ just," he agrees, but Loki can tell that it's for an entirely different reason. "I want to avenge her. I want…"

"It may not feel like it," Loki says when Thor cannot find the words to continue, "but we _have_ avenged her. The true enemy is dead, and we changed whatever history she had lived through in her past. This is what she wanted."

Despite his attempt at reassurance, Loki can see that Thor does not feel the same way. "You're right," he replies unhappily, "it _doesn't_ feel like it at all."

Loki sighs. "Thor—"

"Leave me," Thor cuts in quietly. "Please. I wish to be alone."

"Very well," Loki nods after a moment, taking one step back—

—and emerging into a wooden area. He's been looking for a time to do this, and even now wasn't a good time to do it. But he and Thor were leaving in the morning, and now was his last chance. He sees the object of his intentions and takes another step forward, this time appearing closer to where she sat.

"Agent Romanoff, might we speak?" he asks quietly.

The Black Widow looks at him briefly before nodding. "Have a seat," she tells him, so Loki does.

* * * * *

The End

...for now


End file.
